Holiday
by Captain Weirdo
Summary: Clarisse takes a vacation. Joseph is on a working holiday.
1. Chapter 1

The service ended.

She remained seated, as was her usual custom, until most of the other worshippers filed out of the cathedral. The two security guards who had accompanied her inside stood and moved to opposite ends of the long wooden pew, waiting patiently.

Archbishop Montague removed his vestments in the sacristy. He started to make his way back to his office to tidy up a bit before heading home for his mid-day meal. For reasons unknown, he changed his mind and made his way back towards the nave.

When he saw her he knew there had been a reason he returned. The queen sat alone in the Renaldi chapel. She did not kneel, but her head was slightly bowed. She seemed to be studying the cover of the prayer book in her lap.

He came to stand in front of her. "Your Majesty," he said softly, hands crossed in front of him.

She looked up and her eyes twinkled as she parodied his formal tone, "Your Excellency."

He smiled and sat on the pew in front of her, twisting to face her. "Pardon me, my dear. Clarisse." He reached across and patted her hand affectionately. "You are troubled."

It wasn't a question. She sighed. "I have no right to be troubled Michael."

"No right? You don't have a right to feeling?"

"I don't mean it to sound pompous, but it's true. My life is the proverbial fairy tale, Michael, and yet some days I would really like to trade it in for something less…public. Less ponderous."

"Ah, Cinderella has tired of life in the castle?" he asked lightly.

"Something like that. Although I never had a chance to try my hand as a scullery maid." She smiled. "I might have been good at that job."

"You are good at the job you have now, Clarisse. Why is it suddenly so distasteful to you?"

"Sometimes I think any monkey with an ink pen could do this job, Michael. I have plenty of staff and advisors who do all the hard work – researching, writing briefs and what have you. I sign my name and smile for the cameras." She looked him in the eye. "Everything always for the cameras. It feels as if nothing about my life is very real."

"Clarisse, I have known you for how long? I was an officiant at your wedding. I have baptized your children. I count you as a friend. And I am proud to have you as my monarch. I have watched you grow and change for many years now.

"You love these people, Clarisse. They know that. They feel the same for you. I've watched you sit in this same spot for many years. And it has not escaped my notice that you sat here most of the time without your husband. King Rupert was a good man, Clarisse, but he didn't have the same feeling for the people that you do. You are a shepherd, Clarisse. Rupert was a rancher."

She studied him silently, considering his words. "Then why do I feel like so much is missing? Why do I feel like I want to give someone else the keys to the palace and just walk away?"

"When was the last time you took a vacation?"

"I went to Paris just last month."

"For some sort of EU meeting, was it not? Clarisse – you need some time for yourself. No one can survive a job, any job, without ever taking a break. Leave the country for a week or two. Don't take any work with you. Genovia will still be here when you return."

She smiled at him. "Is this your professional advice, Your Excellency?"

"It is a command from your spiritual advisor, Your Majesty."

She laughed and looked at the guards, who maintained a discrete presence a few pews away. "I suppose I've kept these gentlemen waiting long enough." She started to rise, but the Archbishop reached out and took her arm.

"Clarisse. In all seriousness, you are human. You have given your whole life in service much like I have given mine. You've lived like a nun in a cloister," he laughed when she raised her eyebrows at this statement. "Well, not exactly like a nun, I concede. But we are never asked to give more than we can bear. Don't cloister yourself any longer Clarisse. You've been alone in a lot of ways for a long time. And now that your children are gone, you are perhaps even more isolated. It's ok to be a queen and a person at the same time. No one benefits from your unhappiness."

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Michael. You have always been a wonderful friend." As she stood and prepared to leave, she added, "Although you are certainly a pushy spiritual advisor."

The Archbishop laughed, then asked quietly, "Where is Joseph? You pew seems very empty without him."

She glanced at him, suspicion in her eyes. He met her gaze with an innocent stare. Too innocent, but she didn't push the issue. "He is in Spain. His sister's oldest child is getting married. He is the godfather, and he wanted to be there for the festivities."

"I see." The archbishop turned to leave. "I shall come and see you when you return from you trip," he said mischievously.

She laughed. "Goodbye, Michael."


	2. Chapter 2

**Note:** _I keep forgetting the disclaimer. I didn't create most of the characters and I certainly make no money from them. Also, I've messed with the timelines a bit here. Lionel shows up in this story, which is technically impossible, since he wasn't introduced until the second movie. But I needed him, so here he is. He's an agreeable chap in that way._

"Transylvania? Are you out of your mind?" Joseph's professional demeanor had slipped just a bit. "That's just – why?!"

She waited a moment, then asked "Are you finished sputtering?"

"I am not _sputtering_. It's just that no one goes to Transylvania on holiday. Why would you even consider such a thing? Why not Paris? Rome?"

She shook her head somewhat tersely. "You _are_ sputtering, and you're wrong. I've been to Paris and Rome too many times. I don't want to go to London or Brussels, either. This is a trip just for me. I've always wanted to visit Bran Castle. There are museums and galleries and a dance festial in Sibiu thatt would be just perfect. I just want to do something different."

"You've been reading Bram Stoker," he charged.

"Well, yes." She sounded somewhat contrite. "But I've always been fascinated with Eastern Europe. I want to see the countryside for myself."

"No reliable cellular service, almost no diplomatic contact – this is going to be a nightmare!" he grumbled.

Clarisse stood and breezed past him on her way out of the office. "I'm sure you're right. It is Transylvania, after all."

Joseph stood staring after her. Finally he shook his head and walked down the hall to his own office. Surely she was up to something. She couldn't really want to go to Transylvania, could she?

Evidently, she could. He sighed and turned on the computer. Time to start a crash course on Romanian society and tourism.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: **_Standard disclaimer applies._

Several days later, as was their weekly custom, Clarisse had lunch in the kitchen with Charlotte, Joseph and the palace staff manager, Edward Maxwell. The lunch meeting was ostensibly for the assembled staff to discuss with the Queen any problems with the day to day palace operations . Normally there were very few problems and the lunch meeting was more of an excuse to eat and laugh with friends.

Clarisse enjoyed the company of all three of these people, although she was not as close to Edward as she was the other two. He'd been hired less than a year ago when the long-time head housekeeper had retired.

Edward refused to be called a housekeeper. Since his responsibilities were in fact managerial rather than domestic, the Queen agreed to the new title. Clarisse enjoyed his sense of humor and the sense of ease Edward had with her that made her feel more normal. He treated her as if he thought of Clarisse as a regular person. He had a quick wit and a hearty laugh that made him a favorite.

For his part, Edward had come to love life in the castle. Although he'd hid it well, the Queen deeply intimidated him at first. He had grown up in awe of the monarchy and couldn't quite get his head around the idea that he knew the Queen of Genovia well enough that she called him by his first name. Granted, it was never Ed or Eddie, but always Edward. When she spoke his name, it felt like a grand title.

The first few weekly lunch meetings he attended certainly hadn't helped his digestion. He sat in his chair, pushing food around on his plate, furiously hoping he wouldn't say something stupid. As a result, he didn't say anything at all. However, the easy camaraderie of the other diners eventually drew him out and he quickly became a part of the group.

Since his job involved direct supervision of the palace staff, most importantly the maids, he knew most of the gossip. After a few weeks he became aware of what was generally thought to be a clandestine love affair between the Queen and the Chief of Security. He began to watch the interaction between the two more closely.

He was sure Joseph was in love with the Queen.

But he wasn't sure how she felt about him. Certainly they were friends, but was it any more than that? She seemed somehow guarded most of the time – as if she didn't want any of them getting too close to her.

The staff often spoke of unguarded moments between the two – times when they thought no one else was around to observe the intimacies that passed between them. But most of those stories were retellings of tales told by others – nothing seen first hand. Eventually Edward came to assume that Joseph was a man with a crush on his employer. Which put him in the same boat as almost every other male that worked in the palace. He just had better access than most.

Halfway through this particular lunch, Clarisse asked Edward if he'd ever been to Transylvania.

"Lord, no!" he exclaimed. "Why would anyone want to visit that place?"

Joseph burst out laughing and Clarisse shook her head ruefully. "Am I the only person who ever wanted to do something out of the ordinary for a vacation?" she asked Charlotte.

Charlotte grinned at her.

"You're really going to Transylvania, Your Majesty?" Edward was slightly incredulous.

"Yes, I am." She replied emphatically, while glowering in Joseph's direction. He was still chuckling while he attacked his pork chop. "Do you want to come? Charlotte is coming. If I leave her here she will work herself to death in my absence. Joseph is coming and insists on bringing Shades and possibly Lionel, and God knows who else," another mock glare at Joseph, who caught her look and grinned sheepishly. "So why don't you come along too, Edward?"

"Nooo thank you," he drawled. "If you are leaving town, I'll have the maintenance men rip out the old wiring in your suite and get it replaced. That repair has been needed for months."

"You'll be here to supervise them, right Ed?" Joseph asked. "I'd hate to have someone we don't know messing with the wiring."

"Sure, sure. But if they finish before you return, I'm going fishing!"

"Fishing," Joseph echoed longingly. "Too bad Her Majesty hasn't been reading 'A River Runs Through It' rather than 'Dracula'," he stage whispered to Charlotte.

"Joe, you're terrible!" Charlotte laughed.

"Yes, you are," Clarisse chimed in. "I think I will have you strung up by your toes in the dungeon while we are gone."

"That's exactly the sort of thing I'm afraid will happen in Transylvania!" Joseph said.

The group, including the Queen, dissolved in laughter. She realized again how much she enjoyed this – it wasn't really necessary to get together every week just to make sure the palace was running smoothly, but it was always necessary to have a meal with friends.

As they finished dessert, Clarisse told Joseph, "I've decided on lodging for my trip. Can we meet in your office to discuss it at 4:00?"

"Certainly," he answered.

'Poor Joe,' Edward smiled at the thought. 'He probably lives for those private meetings, hoping against hope that she will suddenly declare a secret passion for him or something.'


	4. Chapter 4

Promptly at 4:00, Clarisse was standing outside Joseph's office door. She raised her hand to knock, just as he opened the door.

"Say you coming," he grinned, motioning to the monitors.

"Ah, of course," she said as she stepped across the threshold. She loved being in his office. It was very masculine and functional and reflected his personal style – dark, heavy woods, rich leather, and a deep musky scent that seemed to be a mixture of his cologne and something else. Wood and leather, she supposed.

The best part of coming to Joseph's office, aside from Joseph himself, was that their roles took on a slight reversal here. This was his territory. He was in charge. She could step down from the pedestal while she was here.

Clarisse sunk into the deep leather armchair across the desk from Joseph. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply as the chair seemed to rise up to cradle her body. "I love this chair!" she murmured. She stretched elegantly, then relaxed into the leather seat. When she opened her eyes, Joseph was sitting back in his own chair, hands steepled in front of him, staring at her through heavily lidded eyes.

He smiled wickedly as she caught his gaze. She felt herself blush.

'Damn it!' she mentally chided herself for letting him effect her so easily. She sat up straighter and pulled the chair closer to his desk. "I know where I want to stay."

"Please, do enlighten me, madam," he said with feigned sarcasm.

Clarisse made a face at him and reached for the book that was lying on the desk. It was a history of Romania. She recognized it and flipped to the flyleaf. Just above the bookplate identifying it as belonging to the Palace Library, was a scrawled note. Joseph hadn't noticed it before. Clarisse indicated it with a perfectly manicured nail.

"We're going to his house."

Joseph took the book from her and turned it to read the note. He squinted at it and reached for his reading glasses. She stopped his hand with her own. "I'll save you the trouble. It says 'You bring light to a dark room, warmth to a cold winter's day. I pray you will one day honor my country with a visit. My door is open, my house awaits.'"

Joseph looked at her and raised a questioning eyebrow. "Its signed 'Radu.'" she said as she released his hand and sat back in her chair.

"Who is Radu?" Joseph asked, his tone purposefully neutral.

"Radu Kolov. He is a wonderful old Count who visited here years ago. His niece and I were in boarding school together when I was a child. He has a small family castle near Brasov. It's open to the public now as a sort of bed and breakfast, but the Count still lives there and loves to play host to the tourists."

"There are tourists?" Joseph asked with mock innocence. "Other than a few gothic thugs and the occasional plebian Romanian family?"

"Don't be such a snob, Joseph!"

He laughed. "I'm sorry. It's just that I never would have figured you for this interest in 'retracing Dracula's footsteps' or whatever it is."

"It's not that!" she exclaimed, then paused and amended, "Well, it's not _just_ that, anyway. Radu – Count Kolov – loved to talk about Transylvania. He made it sound like a beautiful place. And the history is so rich there -- it's like stepping back into time, he said. Besides, if I go somewhere like Paris or Rome, there will be official functions to attend, or some other sort of expectation. In Transylvania, no one will care that I am there."

"That makes sense," Joseph conceded. "I'll contact Kolov's people to get started on the logistics. We'll need to rent the entire castle or lodge or whatever it is. I don't want to have any one unknown staying there along with you."

She nodded resignedly. "It will probably take the whole place just to house all of us anyway."

"Well, if space is a problem, I'll be willing to make the sacrifice and let you share my room."

"I'll keep your offer in mind. However, I've always wondered if Scott sleeps in those infernal sunglasses, so perhaps I will share his room and satisfy my curiosity."

"My room would be much more," he paused a breath "satisfying than Shades'." His wicked smile returned.

"You are terrible, Joseph!"

"You're the second woman who has told me that today. I think my feelings may be hurt!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Note:** I don't own these characters. I make no money from this. I'm having fun with this. I hope you are, too.

Two anonymous black sedans swept almost silently around the circular drive in front of Kolov Castle. The first carried Shades, Lionel and Charlotte. Clarisse, Joseph and another security guard, Marcus, were in the second car. Clarisse could never remember his last name. His nickname around the palace was Red Shirt. Red was evidently his favorite color. Either that or he decided it coordinated nicely with the black favored by his superior.

The cars stopped. Lionel stepped out first and went to the door of the castle, while Shades and Joseph opened the doors for their passengers. The group gathered at the bottom of the stairs as the doors to the castle swung open. A small white-headed man stepped out to greet them.

"Count Kolov!" Clarisse called to him as she stepped from the car.

"Your Majesty Clarisse," the Count bowed deeply, as her name rolled wonderfully off his tongue, peppered with his old world accent. He rose to smile delightedly at Clarisse and her companions. "We are so very happy you are here."

"I'm very excited to see your marvelous county, Radu."

"And it will be well worth it, Your Majesty. I can promise you beautiful mountains, enchanting people and hearty food." He smilingly led the group into the great hall of the castle.

'Castle was perhaps a bit of a stretch,' Charlotte thought as she entered the building. 'More of a manor house than anything, perhaps.' The walls were covered by huge tapestries, once luxuriant, now faded. The house had three floors and the entry hall extended up through the second floor. There was a staircase which curved down one side from the upper floor. Not grand, but certainly more than utilitarian. Charlotte was pulled from of her reverie as the Queen introduced her to Count Radu Kolov.

"What a lovely young woman," the Count's eyes twinkled as he bent gallantly over her hand. "It will be a pleasure to have your company at our table as long as you are here."

"Thank you, Your Lordship," she curtsied.

"Please, do call me Radu. I insist." His expansive smile took in the entire party. "Let me show you to your rooms."

The group followed the Count up the staircase to the second floor. Lionel and Marcus shared a room closest to the stairs. Charlotte had a room with a lovely view of the back garden. Joseph had requested the small room which was next to the large guest suite at the end of the hallway which Clarisse would occupy.

The group separated to settle in to their quarters. Joseph went downstairs to help Marcus and Lionel with the luggage. He brought two of Clarisse's large suitcases into her room. She was out on the balcony.

He slipped through the French doors to join her. "I should have known – always on the balcony. How's the view?"

"Every bit as beautiful as I'd expected. I can't wait to explore the grounds," she said as she turned toward him.

"Please hold off on your exploration for a little while. Shades and I need to survey the area first. Can you wait just a bit?" he asked. "Besides," he gestured at the suitcases, still sitting in the middle of the room. "You didn't bring any one to unpack for you. And the castle doesn't seem to be overrun with ladies maids."

"I am perfectly capable of caring for my self, thank you. Go and do whatever it is you two do. When I'm finished I will see if Charlotte would like to explore the _inside_ of the castle with me."

"I'll instruct Marcus or Lionel to accompany you."

She frowned at him, but knew it was no use to argue. "Fine. Just not both of them at once, please."

He nodded his agreement and backed out of the room to continue his duties.

After settling in, Clarisse knocked on Charlotte's door.

"Would you like to explore the castle with me for a while, Charlotte?"

"Yes – I was just thinking of doing the same thing."

The two women started down the hallway, not pausing at the security officer's door. Charlotte started to say something, but bit her tongue.

Evidently Joseph had warned Lionel and Marcus that the Queen would be leaving the floor. As they started down the stairs, Charlotte heard the door open and quiet footsteps following them. She also heard the Queen give a small exasperated sigh, although she never looked back. Charlotte turned and caught Lionel's eye. They grinned at each other.

At the bottom of the stairs, Clarisse paused and looked around. "Where do we want to go first?"

"Well, there are some lovely tapestries in the entryway," Charlotte ventured.

"Tapestries?" Clarisse smiled widely. "We can see tapestries in any stuffy old museum! I'm thinking more of dungeons and family vaults."

Clarisse pretended to glare over Charlotte's shoulder at Lionel who was trying unsuccessfully to fade into the background. "We'll scuttle around in the bowels of this place and see if we can't put Lionel to the test," she said. Charlotte laughed. Clarisse motioned to Lionel. "You might as well join us, Lionel. It's easier to talk to you than to try to ignore you."

"Yes ma'am," Lionel grinned.

They reached the ground floor and discussed the best way to progress. There was no one around to ask for directions.

"Count Radu seems to run this place with surprisingly few staff," Clarisse remarked. They decided to start with the library and perhaps they could find information on the castle itself. After a few false steps, resulting in discovery of the dining room and a small ballroom, they found themselves in a dark, somewhat musty library.

Charlotte perused the books while Clarisse studied the portraits on the walls.

After several quiet minutes, Charlotte asked, "Lionel – what are you doing?"

Clarisse turned to see Lionel carefully making his way down a row of bookshelves, pulling out each volume, in turn, and then replacing it.

"I'm looking for a secret passageway." Lionel said.

Charlotte rolled her eyes and Clarisse smiled before returning to her study of the family gallery. They continued with their various pursuits for several minutes. Then Clarisse joined Charlotte at a bookcase that seemed dedicated to the Kolov family history and history of the local area. Clarisse selected a thick volume on the Hungarian empire and sat down to skim through the pages. She flipped through the book, stopping to study any maps and photos.

Lionel, on the opposite side of the room, continued his painstaking shifting of each volume, until he found one that wouldn't come off the shelf. He pulled at it a second time and the three of them heard a loud click. A small bookcase next to the fireplace swung slowly open on silent, well-oiled hinges. Lionel let out a small whoop of excitement as Clarisse jumped to her feet and Charlotte exclaimed "Lionel! You did it!"

"What are you doing!?" The three explorers snapped their heads in the direction of the doorway, startled by the deep, heavily accented voice.

"Step away from the passage!" the man commanded. He was tall and muscular, dressed in the whites of a kitchen worker - possibly the chef.

Clarisse was not accustomed to being ordered around in such a gruff manner. Or in any manner at all, for that matter, and quickly recovered her composure. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"I am Armand, Count Kolov's chef and butler," he answered, not softening his tone. "You must be the Queen of Genovia."

"Yes I am, and these are members of my staff," she indicated them with her hand.

"Welcome," he bowed, but did not bother to make his tone match the word. "You mustn't try to enter the passageways in the castle. They have been closed off for many years. Many have collapsed and all are unsafe. The Count does not wish any of his guests to come to harm in this old house. I pray that you will respect his wishes."

"But surely there is no harm—"

"I'm sorry Your Majesty, but you must respect the Count's wishes. He is very clear on the matter. If you would care to follow me, I will show you to the courtyard for tea. I believe the other members of your party are already there." With that Armand backed out of the doorway, bowing low to indicate that the others were to follow.

Clarisse decided it wasn't worth it to argue with this man – she would take the matter up with Count Kolov. The group followed him out of the library.

Joseph and Shades were stretched out in lounges in the courtyard. It was a gorgeous, sunny day. The warmth and the sound of the fountain were very relaxing. So relaxing, in fact, that the men didn't immediately hear the others approach.

"Been working hard, gentlemen?" Clarisse asked wryly. Both men jumped to their feet, somewhat guiltily, when she spoke.

"Your Majesty!" Shades exclaimed.

"Have you had an enjoyable afternoon?" Joseph asked.

"Interesting, I would say."

Joseph sat back down and swung his feet off the chair so Clarisse could sit down next to him. He took a plate of biscuits from the tea tray next to him and offered her one. She shook her head and he stood to pour her tea. As he poured she glanced over at Charlotte and Shades. They whispered together, their heads inclined towards one another, inches apart. Shades smiled. Charlotte giggled. Clarisse sighed.

"Something wrong?" Joseph asked as he handed her the cup.

She smiled up at him and motioned for him to sit down. They sat quietly for a few moments, enjoying the sun, the trees, the sound of the birds and most especially just being in each other's presence.

"Lionel found a hidden passage."

"Lionel? My Lionel? Did it lead to a kitchen cupboard or something?"

Clarisse laughed. "We didn't get to find out. Armand, the butler, caught us at it and fairly unceremoniously hustled us out here. He claims Radu has left strict orders for the passageways not to be used."

"Um-hmm." Joseph lazily sipped his drink.

"The problem was, I would swear that doorway has had regular use. There were no cobwebs, no dust. No creaking or grinding in the hinges. Nothing."

"Perhaps you could ask the Count to give you a tour of the passageways. I doubt he would say no."

"I plan to. But not right now. Right now I have other things to do." She said.

"Such as?"

"Such as sitting here, watching the birds and the squirrels while you read to me from whichever book of poetry you've got hidden in your jacket pocket."

He laughed. "You know me too well."

She smiled quietly and settled back into the cushions, mostly content to sip her tea and listen as his voice led her down silky paths to waking dreams.


	6. Chapter 6

Note: I didn't creat these characters, mostly. I don't make any money from them.

This turned out to be a really long chapter - hope you don't get bored! ha ha!

Dinner was served by candlelight in the castle's dinning room. Clarisse found the atmosphere deliciously spooky, but was unsure whether or not that was intentional. Their host held his guests in rapt attention with stories of his life and exploits. At one point in his narrative, he mentioned a secret passageway leading out of the dungeon, into the stables.

"We stumbled on one of your passageways this afternoon, Radu," Clarisse said with practiced nonchalance. "I would have loved to explore it, but Armand warned us that it was unsafe. Such a shame…" her voice trailed off into a small sigh.

Joseph raised an eyebrow at her over the rim of his wineglass.

"Oh! I haven't been in any of the passageways in years!" Radu exclaimed. "I would imagine if you were careful that there would be no real danger. You would of course need a guide. I would be happy to volunteer, my dear. Perhaps I could give you a tour tomorrow morning?"

"That sounds like a lovely idea!"

Later, as Joseph escorted the Queen upstairs to her room, he checked over his shoulder to make sure no one was close enough to hear. Then he spoke quietly to her, "'I would have loved to explore it, but…" and he gave an elaborate, exaggerated sigh. Clarisse smiled and squeezed his arm. "It worked, didn't it?" she asked.

"It was effective, yes. It frightens me to see how easily you can wrap a man around your finger."

They entered her suite and Clarisse crossed the room to sit on the bed. She kicked her shoes off and curled her feet up beside her. Joseph stood inside the door, waiting. Clarisse looked at him and a smile spread across her face.

"Do you know what I have to do this evening, Joseph?"

"I have no idea."

"Nothing! Nothing at all!" she laughed.

"What would you like to do?" he asked, coming further into the room.

She thought about it for a moment, then said. "I want to get into something more comfortable and then I want to stay up half the night, drinking wine and beating you unmercifully at chess."

"If you wish to join me, that is," she added hastily.

He grinned at her. "I'll be back in 15 minutes with the wine. You're in charge of the chess set."

She nodded happily. "Don't forget to change – I hereby forbid you to wear a tie for the remainder of our stay here!" He laughed and slipped out the door.

Clarisse stood and crossed the room to her closet, for once knowing exactly what she wanted to wear. Her maids had packed her favorite pair of silk lounging pajamas. They were midnight blue – almost black – with a matching robe. The silk was luxuriously soft and she knew the hue looked spectacular with her own coloring. She started to step into her slippers, then kicked them to one side. If it got too cold to go barefoot, she would just bury her feet in the downy bedclothes. She crossed to the desk in search of the chess set she had seen there earlier.

Joseph wasn't having such an easy time of it. He called Armand in the kitchen and requested a chilled bottle of wine and two glasses. Then he contemplated his own closet, completely at a loss for what to wear. Were pajamas appropriate? Maybe with a friend, but certainly not the Queen. Who would she be tonight – a Queen or a friend? She was always both, but never in equal measures. To which side did the scales tip tonight? He didn't want to wear slacks and a dress shirt, minus the tie, but it was by far the safest option. He was still staring at his clothing, totally undecided, when there was a knock on the door. Armand had arrived with the wine.

"Thank you, Armand. Please set the tray on the desk."

"Certainly, sir." Joseph noticed the man's eyes sweep his room. Perhaps he wonders who would be using the second glass, Joseph thought. Joseph felt a twinge of uneasiness as Armand's eye lingered a moment too long on the shoulder holster hanging on the back of the chair. Joseph wanted to kick himself for being careless. He did not like anyone, not even Clarisse, knowing how well he was, or was not, armed. Those are the kind of secrets that made him good at his job.

The servant bowed and left the room.

Joseph quickly locked the holster and gun in the special suitcase he carried to secure his weapons. He turned back to the closet and chose a sweat suit, black of course. He donned a white T-shirt to go with it. He didn't pay any attention to how tightly the shirt clung to his well-defined chest. He simply tucked the shirt into his pants and bent over to tie his running shoes. He leaned against the wall of the closet for balance.

It didn't work. He felt himself falling backwards. He groped blindly at something that brushed past his head and shoulders. He caught a handful of material, which gave way and he landed with a thud and a grunt.

He sat up on his elbow and reached up to uncover his face. A door flew open.

"Joseph!"

He pulled a silk shirt off his head and grinned at her. "I hope I'm not disturbing you, Madam," he said formally.

"Are you alright?" She knelt down beside him and reached for another blouse that was draped over his shoulder.

"Pretty much. So much for the claim that there is no connecting door between these rooms." He got to his feet and helped her pick up the clothing he'd mangled in his fall.

"I wonder how it opens."

"You just lean on it, evidently." They spent the next few minutes testing the mechanics of the door. Finally Joseph remembered the wine he'd left in his room. He grabbed the tray and brought it through the closet into her room. She was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, a chess board set up in front of her. She looked almost childlike. Her hair was tousled from their closet exploration and her eyes were shining with laughter. His eyes feasted on her features.

She indicated the small table next to the bed. "You can set the bottle there, Joseph. Drag the table over here, so we can reach it more easily." She fiddled with the chess pieces, seemingly oblivious to anything else.

Her instruction brought him back to his senses and he quickly crossed the room and set up the table for them.

She was watching him through lowered eyelashes. Still in black, she noted, but then, why change such perfection? The white t-shirt he was wearing caught her eye. She watched the movement of the muscles beneath it; her eye's traveling slowly down his body.

"That should work," he said, straightening from his task. He handed her a glass of wine. He wasn't sure if he should crawl up on the bed with her or not.

Clarisse broke her stare before he noticed it an indicated that he should, in fact, join her. Joseph crawled up on the foot of the bed. He removed his shoes, and mimicked her cross-legged posture.

"I supposed you want the black pieces?" she asked, indicating the ones laid out on his side of the board.

"They're always good luck for me," he answered.

"Not tonight! I am unbeatable tonight!" she taunted lightly. He laughed and they settled into the game. They had played before, so each was familiar with the other's style of play. Both were competitive enough that even a friendly game such as this soon became a silent, concentrated affair. Within the hour, they had finished the bottle of wine.

A short while later, Clarisse dropped her bishop triumphantly into a new row. "Check!"

Joseph groaned and started to move his King, then groaned again, more painfully this time.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"My leg has gone to sleep! It's killing me. I have to stand up."

"I think you're just trying to get out of losing this game," she accused him playfully. "Don't get up. Just lay down on the side of the bed and you can stretch you legs out. I'll turn the board and we can still play."

Joseph moved to do as she asked. She reached for his arm to help him pull himself along side her, while at the same time moving the chessboard. When she grasped his arm and wrapped her fingers around its sinewy mass, she faltered slightly and dipped the board to one side. The pieces slid off onto the bed.

"Oh! And just when I was winning!" Clarisse moaned.

Joseph chuckled at that and reached across her to help pick up the pieces. He placed a hand on her shoulder to steady himself. Then he realized she wasn't really interested in the fallen chess pieces at all.

Clarisse stared into Joseph's eyes. She reached up, catching the back of his neck with her hand. He dropped the ivory queen he'd been holding and instead reached for a more animated version. His arm found her waist and he pulled her towards him.

The kiss was deep and sweet. Then she pulled away from him slightly, never breaking the contact with his lips. His body followed hers until they were lying back on the bed, he halfway on top of her.

Her hands roamed freely over his chest and shoulders. Their kisses took on a life of their own, the heat began to build. Just as he cupped her breast with his hand, a terrible crashing sound reverberated through the room.

Joseph pulled away. He reached down to his ankle, removing a small black weapon from a hidden holster as he swung off the bed. He was at the door before Clarisse had fully registered he was gone. She sat up and gathered her robe back up around her shoulders. She got down off the bed and moved silently across the room to join him at the door. He'd opened it slightly, ascertained that there was nothing in the hall, then opened the door more fully and stepped out.

Lionel and Marcus were in the hallway by this time as well. No sign of Charlotte and Shades.

"What was that?!" Lionel hissed excitedly.

"I've no idea." Joseph answered quietly. "You two stay here and keep everyone off of this floor. I'm going downstairs." He glanced around then moved to knock on Shade's door.

"He's not here," Marcus said. "He and Charlotte left about an hour ago. Said they were going for a walk around the castle grounds. I don't expect they've gone far." As he said this last, he glanced at the queen, taking note of her mussed hair and pajamas, as well as her bare feet. Joseph was barefoot, too, and had come out of the queen's room, not his own, he realized.

Lionel was oblivious.

Joseph turned back to Clarisse. "Stay inside your room until I return. I expect its nothing, but I want to make sure everything is ok. If I find Charlotte, I'll send her up here as well."

Clarisse only nodded and turned to go back inside. She'd seen Marcus glance at her feet and then at Joseph's. She wanted to get inside before he noticed her blush as well.

Joseph stepped into his room and slid his feet into a pair of shoes, then hurried back out. He met Shades and Charlotte as he rushed down the stairs.

"Joe! One of the out buildings just exploded!" Shades exclaimed.

"Charlotte, go to the Queen's room and stay with her until we return. Lionel and Marcus are on guard outside."

Charlotte nodded. "Be careful."

Shade gave her a grim smile as the two men turned and ran down the stairs.

As they reached the bottom floor, the Count emerged from a side hall. "What is going on?" he asked, seemingly somewhat dazed.

"An explosion outside, your Lordship," Joseph said. "Please stay here until we can get some answers."

Shades was already headed out the door. Joseph followed and they sprinted around the side of the building. Smoke was rising from the remains of a building at the back of the garden. Glass and bits of building material were scattered around a large area.

"This is a decent sized blast, Joe. What could they have in an old green house that would suddenly blow up like that?"

"I have no idea. Do you smell those fumes? It doesn't smell like gasoline, but it's definitely a chemical of some kind."

The two men surveyed the rubble to ascertain that there were no smoldering pockets ready to reignite. There were numerous tracks going to and from the rubble. There had been footprints as well as several sets of tracks made by a small vehicle. Some were new, some old.

The completed a cursory examination of the area. There were several containers with traces of foul-smelling chemicals inside them, but nothing identifiable. Finally Joseph gave a small pile of rubble a final kick, and uncovered nothing.

"You know what's missing?" he asked his companion. "No plants. They wouldn't have been that completely annihilated. If they had been here, we would see traces. But there's nothing here except chemicals."

Then they returned to the castle. The County met them at the door.

"What happened?" his distress was evident in his face and the wringing of his hands.

"Not sure," Joseph said. "There was an explosion that blew apart your greenhouse. What did you have stored out there?"

"I've no idea, really," the Count said. "Armand arranges for a gardener to come about once a week. I can't imagine there would be anything dangerous stored in the greenhouse. Maybe some fertilizer? Or a bit of poison. But surely nothing that could explode would have been there. All we grow are a few vegetables and some flowers!"

"We should contact the authorities, your Lordship," Joseph said. "I'm sure they will want to investigate."

The Count smiled weakly, "If the damage was only to my greenhouse and no one was hurt, it really isn't necessary. The village only employs a single constable. And truthfully, he wouldn't be of much help with this."

Joseph nodded and sighed. "Very well, sir. I will post one of my men outside for the rest of the night to keep an eye on things." As an afterthought he added "Where is Armand?"

The Count looked around the room, somewhat absently. "I expect he's gone to the village." He grinned at them. "I really think he has a young lady there that he sneaks out to see. He'll be back by morning, no doubt."

Joseph and Shades exchanged worried looks.

"Well, I guess there is nothing more we can do right now," Joseph said. "We will see you in the morning sir."

The Count said good night and they headed towards their rooms. When they reached their floor, Joseph and Shades briefed the other guards on the situation. Lionel volunteered to take the first watch. Lionel went to bed and the other two proceeded down the hall. Joseph knocked on the door to Clarisse's room. It was opened almost immediately by Charlotte.

"What happened?" she demanded, stepping aside to let the two men in. Joseph noticed the chess board was now set up on a coffee table and evidently Charlotte had taken his place as the Queen's opponent.

Joseph explained what little they knew of the situation. He finished by explaining that the four men would take turns with guard duty for the remainder of the night and then decide if there was any further danger in the morning. Clarisse listened silently and sighed when he finished.

"This is not exactly the restful vacation I had envisioned."

"Well, none of us will die of boredom, that's for sure!" Shades quipped. She smiled wanly at his attempt to cheer her up.

Charlotte stood. "If you'll excuse me, your majesty, I think I will forego the rest of our game and go to bed. I'll see you in the morning?"

"Certainly, Charlotte. Perhaps we'll explore the castle or make a trip into the village." Clarisse smiled and said "Count Radu still owes us a tour of the dungeons."

Charlotte and Shades left the room. Joseph followed them, but not before catching Clarisse's eye, then glancing significantly towards her now-closed closet door. She smiled then said loudly enough to be overheard in the hallway, "Good night Joseph. I'll see you in the morning."

"Your Majesty," he replied and bowed his way out of her door. He left the other two in the hallway and entered his own room. He washed his face and peered at his reflection in the mirror. 'What the hell am I doing?' he thought.

He was about to sneak into the Queen's room in the middle of the night. Neither of them wanted to play chess. Was this a good idea? There would be no going back, yet very probably no going forward, either. There were too many eyes and ears around the palace – she would never allow him such access there. 'Too bad we don't have a connecting door at home,' he thought and smiled ruefully at his reflection.

Taking a deep breath, he crossed the room and opened the closet. He knocked on the back wall. Almost immediately she rapped on the wall in reply. He began to feel around, looking for a mechanism that would unlatch the door. Nothing. He pushed on the wall. Still nothing. He tried leaning against it as he had originally. It didn't budge. Finally he heard her voice, faintly "Joseph?"

"I can't get it open, Clarisse. Can you try it from your side?"

"I have been. I can't figure it out, either."

He worked at it a while longer, before finally kicking at the floor board in disgust. That didn't work either. "Clarisse?"

"Yes?"

"This is stupid. I'll just use the hall door."

"What about Lionel?"

"Hell!" he kicked the wall again. "I forgot I left a guard out there."

"Do you think perhaps he's neglecting his duty and went downstairs for a moment?" she asked hopefully.

"Not bloody likely after the tongue lashing I gave him the last time pulled a boneheaded stunt like that. But I'll check to make sure – perhaps we'll be lucky. Unlock your door so I don't have to wait in the hallway."

"Alright."

He crossed the room and opened the door, as nonchalantly as he could. Standing right outside was Shades. Joseph almost choked.

"Is something wrong, Joe?" Shades asked innocently.

Joseph recovered quickly. "I was just going to make sure that Lionel hadn't deserted his post. What are you doing up?"

"I wasn't sleepy, so I switched watches with Lionel. I'll call you to take over in a few hours."

"That's fine, thank you." Joseph said somewhat tersely and stepped back inside. As he turned he noticed Clarisse's door close – it had been open just a crack. He walked back to the closet and tapped lightly.

"Well?" Her exasperated voice answered.

"I'm all out of ideas. And I guess I need some sleep." He sighed heavily.

She was silent for a few moments. Then, "I suppose you're right. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night."

She didn't answer and he finally closed the closet door and trudged across the floor to his bed. He kicked off his shoes rather violently, punched up his pillows and laid down. Alone. It was going to be a long night.

Clarisse, for her part, was not any happier. She paced around the room for a few minutes, walking off her frustration. She finally sat down on the bed, and picked up the empty wineglass from her nightstand. She raised her arm, meaning to throw it at the closet door, but stopped herself. The noise would only bring Shades running from outside and she couldn't face trying to explain herself right now. She was disgusted by her own childish temper and finally lay down on the bed. Alone. It was going to be a long night.

Neither of them heard anything an hour later when the mechanism in the closet wall finally gave way and the secret door slid smoothly, silently open.


	7. Chapter 7

**Note:** _I don't own this stuff. Just made up the story line._

The next morning at breakfast, Clarisse watched as Shades and Charlotte sat side by side, laughing together. Charlotte laid her hand on the table. Shades reached over and rested his hand on hers. They didn't care who saw. It didn't matter.

Clarisse bit off a corner of toast and munched on it rather violently. She glanced at Joseph and caught him staring at the happy couple as well. He felt her gaze and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Life is not fair Joseph."

"Indeed it is not, Your Majesty. But to what specifically are you referring?" His bantering tone belied the formality of his words. The Count entered the dining room as he spoke.

"The fact that I had not yet seen Radu's lovely gardens and green house before last night." She smiled a greeting at the Count.

"I have just come from speaking with Armand, my dear. He assures me that only the greenhouse was damaged. Apparently there were some chemical fertilizers in there that were left too close to the heater and that caused the explosion.

"However," he continued brightly, "I would be happy to give you a tour of my dungeons this morning. If you are up to it?"

"I would be thrilled! I'm sure you have many of stories of romance and intrigue that took place in this castle," Clarisse said.

"I don't know about that, but I imagine the cells are suitably dark and dank enough to lend themselves to good story telling." He turned to Joseph. "Will you be joining us?"

"Definitely," Joseph replied somewhat darkly. "As will Shades and the other security officers. After last night, I don't want Her Majesty taking any chances."

"Shall we meet at 10:00 then? In the library? I will tell Armand that we will be late for lunch."

Everyone agreed and the talk turned to the festival being held in the village that week and whether they wanted to sample some of the fish from the Count's own lake for dinner that evening.

Joseph watched carefully whenever Armand entered the room to serve. He didn't trust the man and this morning Armand seemed especially tense. Finally he asked Count Kolov, "Is Armand the only staff in your employ, sir?"

"At this time, yes. I've had a terrible time keeping live-in help. He came to me almost two years ago, not long before most of the rest of my employees left. But Armand is very good at his job and he manages to hire temporary help from the village whenever we need it." The Count smiled. "I would be lost without him. He takes very good care of me."

Joseph returned the smile, but the answer hadn't allayed any of his suspicions.

Following breakfast, Clarisse strolled out into the garden. It was a warm morning, but dark rain clouds hung in the air.

"Stay out here too long and you're liable to get drenched," a husky voice spoke into her ear. She hadn't heard Joseph approach. She took his arm as he fell into step beside her.

"I don't really care." She squeezed his arm.

They walked in silence for a while. Then he asked her, "Did you happen to notice the closet door this morning, Your Majesty?"

"Yes! It probably opened the minute we gave up and went to bed." She laughed lightly. "Do you really think Shades spent the night in the hallway? Or was he in Charlotte's room?"

"He better hope he spent the night in the hallway!" Joseph exclaimed. "He was there when I went out to relieve him in the wee small hours this morning."

"Oh, Joseph! I didn't realize how little sleep you've had!" Clarisse stopped walking to look at him more fully. "Why don't you skip the trip to the dungeons this morning? There will be plenty of others there and you could catch up on your rest."

"I don't need rest," he growled, pulling her closer to him.

"Well, what do you need?" she asked archly, surprised at the challenge she heard in her own voice. In answer he swung her around until her back was pressed against a large tree, shielding them from the view of the house. He crushed his lips onto hers. She met his kiss with a vengeance of her own. Her arms circled his waist, pulling him deeper, closing the distance between their bodies. After several heated moments he pulled himself from her embrace and stepped back.

Neither one of them spoke. Both were somewhat shaken by the ferocity of passion they found themselves capable of.

Finally Clarisse found her voice. "Don't touch me," she said softly.

"What?!" he gasped. His eyes darkened with hurt.

"No! That's not what I mean, Joseph, darling. Please – " She raised her hands imploringly and leaned back against the tree. "If you touch me again, here and now, I won't be able to control myself, and we'll make fools of ourselves right out here in the middle of the garden." She laughed uncertainly.

Joseph nodded his head and sat down on a bench across the path from where she was standing. "You make a good point," he agreed. He stared hungrily at her. She could almost feel his hot eyes moving up and down her body. The very air between them seemed to crackle and pulse.

She took a deep breath, and continued to lean against the tree, not trusting herself to cross the path to sit next to him. "I wanted you last night," she said quietly. "I told myself this morning that it was just the wine." She raised her eyes to meet his fiery stare. "I was wrong - wine has nothing to do with it."

He laughed and ran a hand across his face. "We've been dancing around each other for years, Clarisse. Will things ever change?"

"Yes."

She spoke that one word quietly and with conviction. She didn't know how or when things would change, but she knew her heart.

His eyes locked onto hers and she could read all he wanted to say in that gaze. Her simple answer seemed to be enough for him. For now.

Eventually he spoke. "It's almost 10:00." He stood and took a step towards her. She smoothed her hair back into place and took his proffered arm. And together they walked back inside.


	8. Chapter 8

_Note: I own nothing._ _ And just to be clear, this isn't the end. I swear!_

The rest of the group was assembled in the library. The Count entered last, followed by Armand. The servant was speaking quickly to his employer's retreating back. "Sir, please! I must protest – the passageways are not safe! Someone could get hurt."

"Nonsense, Armand! These passageways have stood unchanged for centuries. They are not going to collapse today. I will hear no more of this. You are bordering on insubordination!"

Armand set the box he was carrying down on a table, turned on his heel and left without another word. Joseph watched the exchange carefully. As Armand turned to leave, his face contorted into a mask of anger and something else – possibly fear. Joseph knew something wasn't right about the situation, but he couldn't point to anything concrete, just his natural suspicion of the other man. There had been no threat to Clarisse – the anger Armand showed seemed directed entirely at Count Kolov.

"I'm so sorry," the County apologized. "Armand takes his job so seriously, he sometimes forgets his place. He does a good job, but he can be overprotective." He rummaged through the box and took out flashlights and a map. "Part of the tunnel system has some rudimentary electrical lighting, but we'll need flashlights for most of it. Are we ready?"

The Count crossed to the bookcase and moved the book that opened the secret door. It slid noiselessly open.

"Why can't all these doors be that cooperative," Joseph muttered under his breath. Clarisse stifled a laugh.

They stepped through the opening into a small passageway. There was room for them to walk side by side. Charlotte and Shades followed the Count. Lionel and Marcus brought up the rear. Joseph remained close to the Queen's side.

As they made their way downward, Count Radu regaled his audience with stories his family had passed on of the history of the castle and its inhabitants. This time his stories were more macabre, more violent. This was the dark side of the family history.

Clarisse loved it. She stopped him often to ask questions. For his part, the Count enjoyed pointing out details of the construction of the catacombs and tunnels. He consulted the map often, assuring them he knew the way, but that it was good to be careful.

As they walked, Joseph pondered Armand's warnings. Why was the man so adamant that they not explore these passages? It just didn't make sense and Joseph was more than a little uneasy about it. He was ready to call a halt to their progress at the first sign of danger.

As a result of his scrutiny, Joseph noticed that the passageways were very clean – there were signs that they had been used recently. The electric lights, while certainly simple, were burning brightly. There were no lose connections, no burned out bulbs.

The group descended to the bottom of a long staircase to a hallway with a large oak door at one end. Count Kolov consulted his map. "This should be the entrance to the dungeon," he said. "We'll go through the cells, then exit through a secret passage on the other side. It opens into the stable." As he spoke, he pulled on the door latch. The door swung slowly open. He stood aside to let his guests enter first.

Shades stepped cautiously through the door. And right into the barrel of a gun.

"Stop right there," a deep voice commanded.

The lights inside the dungeon flashed into brilliance. They illuminated an area that looked like Frankenstein's lab. Glass tubing connected bottles, beakers and tubs. Machinery hummed and the room emitted a foul chemical smell.

Shades stepped back from the gunman blocking their entrance. From behind the group a more familiar voice said, "I tried to warn you. Now it's too late."

"Armand!" Count Kolov cried. "What is the meaning of this?"

"It means he's running a drug lab in your castle, sir," Shades said. "I recognize the set-up. Methamphetamines?"

Armand grinned evilly. "Very astute. This is a perfect location for it. Tony and I," he indicated the other gunman. "are making a fortune – with very little effort." Armand stepped forward menacingly. "And none of you people are going to mess that up for us."

As he moved closer to the group, Lionel and Marcus positioned themselves to block his progress. Without a second thought, Armand pulled the trigger on his gun.

The sound of the explosion was deafening in the short hallway. No one heard Charlotte scream as Marcus fell to the ground. The point blank shot tore a gaping hole in the young man's chest. Joseph pulled Clarisse behind his body and held her against the wall, trying to make her as small a target as possible in the confined space.

As the smoke cleared, Armand spoke again. "I don't intend to waste time with you. The only reason we don't just kill you here, is I don't want to drag your bodies outside." He called to his partner. "What do you think – can we put them under the floor of the stables?"

"They will smell," Tony answered. "I say we take them out to the lake and throw the bodies in."

"Good idea. How about a little walk, my friends?"

The Count seemed to have crumbled into the wall, his face white with shock. Charlotte held on to his arm, trying to hold him up. Lionel stood from where he'd knelt by Marcus' body, wiping his bloody hands on his shirt. He looked to Shades and Joseph, shaking his head.

Joseph still held Clarisse behind him. He was aware of Count Kolov yelling something at Armand while his mind raced through possibilities. Would it be safer to make a stand here or to get out into the open by the lake? His thought process was arrested by the feel of hands at his back. It was Clarisse. Evidently she had felt the small steel bulge of the gun he wore in the back of his belt. Clarisse was reaching up under his jacket, taking the gun from its holster. He could tell from the way she held her body against his, that she was trying to conceal her movements. He slowly started to move his right arm so she could pass him the weapon.

It didn't work.

The thug from the dungeon noticed the movement. "Hey! What are you doing?!" All eyes turned towards them and Tony shouted "She's got a gun!" Even as the words left his mouth he swung his own gun towards Clarisse and fired two shots.

Clarisse closed her eyes, bracing for the impact. She was hit full force and fell back into the wall.

Time froze.

She felt something warm and wet on her face and opened her eyes. She hadn't been hit by the shots. It was Joseph. The slugs plowed into his body as he threw himself in front of her. His body fell against her. She grabbed at him, trying to keep him from falling. Blood from a head wound spattered on her face. She couldn't hold his weight and his body slid down to the floor.

She screamed his name.

He didn't hear her. Blood poured from his head and chest.

He was dead.


	9. Chapter 9

The shots and Clarisse's scream were almost simultaneous to Shades ears. He didn't have time to think of the consequences; the distraction was just the opening he needed. He jumped for the gunman, knocking him into the dungeon door.

Lionel's training took over and he threw himself at Armand at almost the same instant. The four men fought ferociously. Charlotte hefted the solid flashlight she was carrying and swung it as hard as she could at Shades' opponent. She connected with the side of his head. He grunted and fell to the ground. Shades grabbed for the gun, just as Armand delivered a knee to Lionel's gut and wrenched his own gun free. "Stop!" he yelled, aiming for Shades' head.

Shades slowly got to his feet, leaving the gun where it lay. Lionel lay groaning on the floor. Count Kolov stepped in front of Charlotte as if to protect her. Tony lay unconscious on the ground.

Kolov drew himself up to his full height and addressed the gunman, "You will hang for this, Armand – I swear it!"

"I doubt it, sir!" he said mockingly. "You senile old bastard – you're the one who's about to die. I'll never hang – not for the likes of you!"

"How very true."

Armand jerked his head in the direction of the ice cold voice. A final shot reverberated through the small space. Armand slid slowly to the floor, leaving a red smear on the wall behind him. There was silence for a breath. Then Charlotte moved, crossing the small space to Shades' side, concern on her face. Radu helped Lionel to his feet. Shades hugged Charlotte tightly.

Clarisse dropped the smoking gun. The others turned to see the Queen sink to her knees beside Joseph's still form. Blood was beginning to pool beneath the body. She said nothing, tears running down her face,

Shades dropped to the ground next to Joseph, frantically feeling for a pulse. "Charlotte! You and Count Kolov go back and call for help – we need an ambulance. Lionel – secure Tony and make sure that dungeon is empty. We don't want any more surprises." The others moved to obey.

Clarisse spoke, her voice papery thin. "He's not breathing."

"I'm not getting a pulse." Shades confirmed. "Hurry Charlotte, hurry!" he yelled after the retreating forms. He looked at the Queen. "Can you do CPR, Majesty?"

"Yes."

"Ok, you breathe, I'll do chest compressions." She nodded.

She felt her self move. She took Joseph's head in her hands and gently moved it into position, making sure his airway was unrestricted. His skin felt cold to her touch. She wanted to scream. And scream. And scream.

Instead instinct took over and she started the long slow breaths, filling his lungs with her own air. She involuntarily gasped and stifled a sob as her lips first touched his. He was cold and unresponsive. Dead.

She had no idea how long they continued. Lionel returned and spelled Shades from the chest compressions. Shades caught his breath then touched Clarisse's shoulder, offering to take over the breathing. She shook her head. She wouldn't give up on him. She turned back to her work, but as her lips touched Joseph's again, something was different. She pulled back as if she'd been shocked. "Scott! I think he's breathing!"

Lionel paused and Shades placed his fingers at Joseph's neck. It was faint, but there was a pulse. Shades let out a yell and grinned at the others. "He's back! He's back!"

Lionel whipped off his shirt and pressed it to the wound on Joseph's chest. Shades began to check the wound on his head. "The bullet doesn't appear to have penetrated here," he said. "I need some sort of bandage…" Clarisse removed her scarf and handed it to him.

"Is he…is he going to…?" she bit back her tears.

"I don't know, but he's not dead yet!" Shades answered.

Clarisse sat back against the wall, giving the two men room to work. She hugged her knees to her chest. She was suddenly very cold.


	10. Chapter 10

Note: _I don't own these characters. I'm making no money from this. _

_Thanks for all your wonderful reviews. _

The service ended.

Clarisse had given a beautiful eulogy and presented the posthumous medal of valor. Archbishop Montague had officiated the service and now escorted the Queen out of the church to the waiting limousine.

She took a deep breath and paused to let her eyes adjust to the bright sunshine before allowing the Archbishop to lead her down the steps of the cathedral to the waiting car.

"Want to come with me Michael?" she asked him quietly.

"Are you going back to the palace, my dear?"

"No. The airport."

He raised an eyebrow in question.

She tried unsuccessfully to keep the excitement out of her voice. "I'm meeting Joseph's plane. He's finally well enough to come home."

"Thank God," Michael said fervently. "You go without me, Clarisse. I would only be in the way."

"In the way? Of course you wouldn't be in the way!"

Michael smiled and paused at the open car door. "Clarisse, what would be the point? Neither of you would ever even know I was there!" She tried to protest, but he merely winked at her and shut the car door.

The limo slid almost silently into place on the tarmac. Clarisse hoped no one had followed her as she left the church, but no such luck. She could see the photographers inside the terminal. Lenses pressed against the glass walls, focusing on where her private jet would land.

Clarisse waited rather impatiently. She had the privacy barrier up between her compartment and the driver. Finally the intercom buzzed. "Genovia One is making its final approach, Your Majesty."

"Thank you, Adam. I will remain here. Can you see that Joseph joins me without any trouble?"

"Yes ma'am."

She cursed silently as she eyed the press corps again. What she really wanted was to race up the stairs and greet Joseph the moment the door opened. But she knew the enthusiastic greeting she'd like to give him would look less than regal when flashed across the evening news. She would let him come to her.

And he finally did. She watched as Joseph made his way carefully down the stairs, disdaining the help of one of the stewards who followed alongside. His arm was in a sling and Clarisse knew he still had stitches in the skin above his right ear. He walked gingerly, but under his own power.

Finally the door of the limo opened and he carefully twisted his way into the car. He caught her eye and grinned broadly. "Hello." was all he said. She waited until the door was closed behind him before she spoke.

"Oh, Joseph." Her voice caught in her throat. "How are you feeling? Was the plane comfortable enough for you?" she added a little breathlessly.

He looked at her somewhat quizzically. "I'm fine. A little sore, certainly, but much better now that I'm here."

"Well, that's good. I've talked to Edward and he's arranging for all your favorite foods – the doctor said you could eat whatever you wish – and Charlotte has arranged for the doctor to see you later today – he said he could provide whatever care you needed at the palace…" she stopped in mid-sentence as Joseph started to laugh.

"I'm babbling, aren't I?" she grinned ruefully.

"I've never known you to babble, but yes, that is exactly what you're doing." He smiled at her.

"I'm sorry," she looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. "I just never… I thought I was going to go crazy waiting for you to come home. I needed to be here this week – I owed that to Marcus and his family – but I could hardly bear to leave you in that hospital."

He started to speak, to reassure her that everything was fine. She didn't let him. "Joseph, you are the most amazing man I've ever known. You almost died for me. I can't comprehend that – it makes me feel so humble and so unworthy. I've always loved you, but facing the possibility that you might die made me realize I can't live without you. I owe you my life, Joseph."

"Clarisse," Joseph said softly. He reached over and took her hands in his. "I'm fine. Really. You don't owe me anything. I am your bodyguard – it's my job to keep you safe and alive. But you should understand this; my actions are never predicated solely on what is and isn't my job. I do what I do because I love you. It's as simple as that."

She started to speak and it was his turn to silence her. "I also know things really aren't as simple as that. I really do understand. I'm only asking for one thing. When the time is right – right for you, for me and for this country – promise me we can be together. That is all I ask."

She looked at him for a moment, then wrapped her arms around his neck. He met her lips softly. Then he pulled her against him, taking complete possession of her mouth. She gave herself over to the kiss, her body making the promise that his heart desired.

"Ow!"

"Joseph?"

He chuckled. "I guess I still have to take it easy." He wrapped his good arm around her shoulders and she snuggled up against him. "So what are we going to do once we get home? Play chess?"

-0-

That evening Edward decided to deliver Joseph's dinner tray himself. He wanted a chance to welcome his friend home. He was astounded by everything that had happened since they last ate together.

He carried the tray up to Joseph's room and knocked on the door. There was no answer, so he hoisted the tray with one arm and opened the door. He called Joseph's name and stepped inside the room. All he heard was music.

It was Marvin Gaye singing a slow, smoky love song.

Edward set the dinner tray on the coffee table in the sitting room. Joseph was probably asleep or just lying around day-dreaming to the music. Either that, or more likely, he was reviewing the security logs for the past few weeks that he'd been gone. Joe could be such a workaholic sometimes, Edward thought. He finished setting up dinner and still no sign of Joseph. The bedroom door was open just a bit, so he decided to peek in and make sure everything was ok before leaving.

He raised his hand to knock, but froze as his eye caught movement inside the room. Joseph was dancing. And he certainly wasn't alone.

Edward had seen the two of them dance together before, several times. He always thought they were beautiful to watch together – so fluid, so perfectly in step.

This was different.

He knew he should leave. He knew he shouldn't watch. But he couldn't tear his eyes away from them. They moved like one person. Their dance made the music almost visible - tangible. Edward watched them sway and turn, twirl and touch. He could tell Joseph was moving carefully and that she was conscious not to hurt him. But that didn't stop their dance from being one of the most sultry Edward had ever seen.

The music stopped. Joseph leaned forward and whispered something into Clarisse's ear. Her throaty laugh was her only response. Then she took his face in her hands, and never taking her eyes from his, she kissed him. Deeply. Sensually.

That finally shook Ed from his trance-like immobility. He quietly moved away from the door and abandoned the dinner tray. Joseph would find it sooner or later.

From the looks of that kiss, probably much later.

-The End-


End file.
